


Owner of a Lonely Heart

by Fitzsimmons_Forever



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x15 canon divergence, 4x15 spoilers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Framework, LMDs, Non-aware LMDs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10095878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmons_Forever/pseuds/Fitzsimmons_Forever
Summary: SHIELD has been infiltrated by LMDs. The organisation is under existential threat. It falls to the two greatest scientific minds in SHIELD - Fitz & Simmons - to save the organisation. But there's a problem.They're madly in love. And the two greatest minds just became the three greatest minds.It comes down Fitzsimmons to rescue their colleagues from the framework, defeat the LMDs and save SHIELD. One of them at least.The other has a different objective. They just don't know it yet.





	1. Illusion is Not Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is my first fic, so if you think I've tagged / used warnings incorrectly please let me know ASAP so I can fix it! 
> 
> The inspiration for this was really the May LMD. I loved the idea that she had no idea what she truly was and adapted that to another pivotal scene in the series. So we've got another unaware LMD. I'll let you figure out who it is.
> 
> I hope you really enjoy the work and see the notes at the bottom for more details!

Jemma

The trolley rolled down the corridor at a decent speed. It felt like we were going at a snail’s pace. The back of my neck itched constantly: I was fighting my every instinct not to check over my shoulder, be in a defensive stance and scrutinise everyone for signs of being an LMD. It was ridiculous of course.

There were no signs.

Daisy, Mace, Mack and Coulson all replaced… this was an unmitigated disaster. Probably the worst situation I’d been in since Maveth. There was only one positive. I still had Fitz. He’d kept me from panicking in the lab, stacked the trolley high with all the technical equipment we’d need (I tossed a few framework-relevant devices onto it, just in case we needed to investigate that rabbit hole any further) and we’d made straight for the workshop… but going slow enough to not attract attention.

As we finally passed through the last archway before the workshop, I breathed out a sigh of relief. If I’d sighed just a little louder - or if Fitz and I had still been talking - my life would have been completely different. As it was, I still heard the subtle click of the device above the archway and the responding beep from the trolley computer.

Fitz guided the trolley into the room and started locking the door behind us, as I wheeled it into a slightly better position. I took a moment to look at him as I walked around the trolley. My Fitz. Messy brown hair, fidgeting hands that gave away his nervousness and the depth of care and love in his warm blue eyes. I took a deep breath: I had to focus on the task at hand. He was still trying to protect me. I had to protect him too.

I looked down at the computer screen and frowned. “What is…” I murmured, scanning the screen: 1 LMD detected. West sector. But it was only the two of us in the picture. And why was there even an LMD detector there?

Fitz skipped over my first thought and went to the second one as he took the computer from me. “The Lab techs must have taken it upon themselves to mount LMD detection devices randomly around the base. There must…”

Oh no.

Not again. It couldn’t be us again.

It couldn’t be. Except it was there in front of me. Cool white letters printed on a screen that had changed everything. Because it wasn’t me. So it had to be him. 

“… be a calibration error or something,” Fitz continued. He was turning to face me. 

I stumbled backwards, mentally cursing my own clumsiness. I near dived for the counter to get away from him. My hand closed around the gun almost as an afterthought as I brought it round to face Fitz.

And clicked off the safety.

“Because it’s reading the equipment as…” Fitz’s eyes widened and he took a step towards me.

“Stay right there.” I stammered out, hating the fear that trembled in my voice.

“Whoah, Jemma!” Fitz cried.

“Back away!” I yelled at him, as he skidded to a stop, hands raised. “Until we can… figure this out.”  
“Figure what out?” Fitz demanded, voice shaking. “You’re pointing a gun at me, why are you pointing a gun at me?” My stomach twisted at the fear in his eyes. I hadn’t seen him this afraid since… since the Zephyr. When he faced Giyera. I’d played back the footage… watched in horror and admiration as Fitz (despite his impending death) managed to trick Giyera and kill him with an invisible gun. It was the closest Fitz had ever come to dying.

The closest I’d ever come to losing my whole world.

The accusation in his voice jolted me. He was afraid. But he was angry and confused. I felt my hands shaking uncontrollably, gun wavering in response to the confusion and fear boiling inside me. Emotions that were only amplified as Fitz’s eyes widened again and he looked at me with understanding.

“No.” He whispered and I heard his voice break slightly. Part of my heart broke with it.

“Don’t move.” I commanded, keeping my voice steady. This is under control. This is under control.

“It’s you.” Fitz whispered. 

I tightened my grip on the gun and felt tears begin to trickle down my face. How could Radcliffe do this to us?

“Shut up.” Fitz’s eyes went from warm and afraid to cold and hard. I saw certainty there. Fitz was sure. No. He was pretending! “Shut UP!” I screamed. “I-”  
“You suggested we come to the workshop. Alone. You brought me here.” Fitz stood up tall, ice cold eyes piercing into mine. They accused.

“No.” My voice broke. “No. You were the one telling me to act normal and-”

“You knew how the LMDs were made. You knew!” Fitz declared.

“You tried to blame this on a calibration error! There was no calibration error-”

“I’m not the one that’s pointing the gun!” Fitz yelled. “I bloody well know I’m not an android!”

“You would lie and say that! You’d be programmed to-”

“You don’t know. You don’t even know.” Fitz whispered and his eyes softened again. “Like May.”

“Stop it!” I cried, feeling that awful terrible guilt and doubt rising up again, threatening to engulf me. How could I know? I couldn’t be sure… “The… the same goes for you!”

“Of course this happening.” Fitz murmured despairingly. “This always happens to you, to me, to US!” He paused for breath, eyes shining with tears. “It’s my worst fear coming true again. You don’t even know!”

“I’m not a bloody LMD!” I yelled, voice cracking again. “You’re…. you’re messing with me emotionally, you-”

“It’s not me Jemma!” Fitz cried, throwing his arms wide.

“Well, it’s one of us!” I screamed.

I felt the tears finally break free. I felt them begin to move down my face, as if they could spread into the awful, piercing silence that had erupted around us.

“It’s one of us, Fitz.” I whispered.

Fitz took a shuddering breath. I had always been able to read him like a book. I could see he was breaking apart, watch it in his eyes. But the LMD would know how to replicate that. And I knew I was real. I remembered everything. 

Every moment spent in the lab on the Bus, discussing scientific treasure after treasure, oblivious to the treasure standing beside me the whole time.

Every nerve-wracking second I spent in HYDRA. Interrogated by Bakshi, singled out by Whitehall and intimidated by Bobbi. That terrible fear and coupled with it, the awful guilt of leaving Fitz behind…

The crushing despair as I saw Fitz leave for the aircraft carrier, matched only by the euphoria of seeing him not only return, but finally making the move I hadn’t realised I needed him to make…

Every second and hour spent on Maveth. Dogged always by the hideous blue half-light. Lost, alone, afraid, abandoned… for so long I had only Fitz to give me hope. Then I had Will. And so much guilt to go with it.

“Well, regardless of who it is.” Fitz whispered. “It’s my fault.”

I could feel myself reaching breaking point again. “It is.” I whispered and nodded. “It is.”

“I perfected the technology. I started this whole nightmare. I’m sorry.” He raised his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” I sniffed. “Don’t make me feel… bad for you. Don’t hurt me!” I cried, doing my best to steady the shaking pistol.

“I couldn’t.” Fitz declared, stepping forwards. “I’m not going to fight you, Jemma. Even if you are a decoy.”

He visibly wilted. “I’m the bad guy.” He kept talking but I barely heard the words. I was consumed by a need to yell at him, to remind him that he wasn’t the bad guy, that he was the greatest, kindest, most loving person I knew…

I didn’t.

“So I’ll do whatever you say.” Fitz finished.

I cast my eyes around desperately. I wanted to look at anything but the pain in his eyes, the defeat in his posture. I looked for escape. I looked for an answer.

I found a knife. 

“Pick it up.” I commanded. I heard steel in my voice now. What was I thinking? What was I planning?

“And do what, Jemma?” Fitz smiled ruefully.

“Cut your wrist. If you’re the LMD, I’ll see your sub-structure and I’ll know. And if… if not…” My voice was shaking again.

“And if not, you’re the android and you’ve convinced me to slit my wrist.” Fitz replied, voice shaking almost as much as mine.

“Do it!” I yelled at Fitz. I hated myself.

Fitz took a few shuddering breaths, rolled up his sleeve and walked to the table. “OK.” He looked at me and grimaced.

He dragged the rough, serrated blade across his wrist. My every instinct screamed at me to dash over there and stop it. I didn’t. Blood gushed out of the wound and he collapsed to the floor. “That’s a lot of blood.” He said. He sounded almost surprised.

“Did you cut the radial artery?” I demanded, voice shaking again. He was on the floor, crouched. Bleeding. Crimson waves lapped across the floor away from him. Towards me. I had done this.

I might as well have cut his wrist open myself.

“I was trying very hard to miss it,” Fitz moaned in agony then and I started forwards without even thinking about it. 

“Don’t come near me!” Fitz yelled, scrambling away from me. I ignored him, grabbing a cloth from a nearby table. I had to staunch the bleeding. And see the truth.

“Oh no! No no no no no no no…” Fitz mumbled, clutching his wrist. “Oh God…”

“Fitz!” I whimpered as I reached his side, leaning down towards him.

He lunged back towards me, sending his uninjured arm into the gun and knocking it clean out of my hands. I screamed as he came towards me, fear in his eyes and knife in his uninjured hand. I acted on instinct. I slammed my free hand into his side, stumbling backwards to avoid the blow I knew was coming. 

Fitz was sent flying across the room and into the wall with a sickening crunch. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

I froze. I hadn’t even meant to hit hard, but I’d just sent him flying. Across the room. I felt like I’d barely smacked him but… he’d been hurled away. How could I have done that? It wasn’t possible!

I felt a wetness on my wrist and heard the sound of tiny droplets hitting the floor. Fitz had got me with the knife. It had cut into my wrist. But underneath the blood that trickled from my arm was something more terrifying. Something that scared me more than ten of Ward or a hundred Hives.

A metal plate, wires criss-crossing it. A light blinked underneath my skin. For a moment I stared at it and felt my world shatter. My whole life was a lie. I wasn’t even real. All my memories were fake.

I was an object. A machine. Built to kill, to destroy. 

I wailed and let the tears stream down my face.

I collapsed to the floor, tears overflowing onto the floor in front of me. I curled in on myself, sobbing relentlessly. 

I’d never been in the lab with Fitz. 

I hadn’t been there for him at the bottom of the ocean.

I didn’t wish him luck, or tell him there could be something.

He never asked me out for dinner.

We never went on a date, or laughed together or kissed.

It was all… Hers. I loved Fitz. Completely and absolutely. Not only had I just convinced him to slit his own wrist and knocked him out cold…

I also knew that he’d never loved me. He never would.

I was a shell. An android.

A monster.

\+ + +

Fitz

My whole body hurt. Every inch of me ached as I swam towards consciousness. Pain hummed across my back and neck. It pricked at my legs and hands and feet.

But my wrist burned. It boiled with pain. I felt a burning heat and a terrible weakness. I groaned and shifted my gaze there.

I’d been bandaged up. A cloth expertly tied around my wrist. I even recognised the knot. One of a kind.

Simmons’ own creation.

I jerked and looked upwards.

Jemma was at the counter a few feet away from me, rummaging desperately through the equipment. The laptop was set up next to her, along with what looked like a partially dismantled LMD detector.

“No!” She screamed and slammed her fist into the counter. I could hear the wood crack from here. I remembered the force of the blow that had sent me flying into the wall. Seeing the blood welling from my wrist, but mercifully no circuitry.

Realising that was worse, in a way. Because it meant I was OK: but Jemma wasn’t. Because the thing that looked like her standing there? It wasn’t her. No matter what it might believe. I’d tried to get away from her. It hadn’t gone well.

My wrist surged with new pain and I hissed in response.

Jemma - no it wasn’t Jemma, it wasn’t - jerked round to face me. Her eyes were red from crying and tears had stained her shirt and left tracks running down her face. “Thank God, Fitz!” She cried and stumbled over to me, crouching down. 

I tried to stand up… only to realise my uninjured hand was cuffed to the counter. “Are you OK, Fitz? Does it hurt? What can I do? Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I never meant-” Jemma was rambling, panicking as her eyes ran over me, scanning my bandaged arm and face. “Please tell me you’re OK, Fitz. I need to know-”

“Shut up.” I spat. “Shut up. Where’s Simmons? What have you done to her? If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God-”

“Fitz you’re confused.” She took a shaky breath. “I… I’m Jemma! You bumped your head and fell and cut your wrist but I… I’m right here, I can help you, I-” She trailed off and followed my gaze to the computer. 

The image on it had changed. Instead of the corridor, it showed a view of the workshop. Jemma was the only one in shot, tears running down her face. 

One LMD detected.

“Show me your wrist.” I whispered, feeling the tears slide down my face.  
She looked taken aback and looked down at her wrist. Damn near her whole arm had been bandaged up under the shirt, tied so tightly it looked more like a tourniquet than a bandage. A bandage not meant to be taken off. Ever.

“There’s nothing to see Fitz.” Jemma whimpered, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

“Jemma could never lie to me. Neither can you.” I stared into her - damn, it’s - eyes. They were filled with pain. Loss. 

She’d thought she was real. She’d really believed it. That bastard Radcliffe, I was going to… I was going to get out of here. I was going to get off the base. I was going to rescue Simmons. The real Simmons. I had to make sure she was safe. At any cost.

“Let me go.” I pleaded at the android, shaking my wrist inside the cuffs.   
“I can’t let you leave!” It cried. “It’s not safe out there! There’s LMDs everywhere! They could hurt you! Coulson, Mack, Mace Daisy-”

“There’s an LMD in here with me.” I spat. “You’re not real.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I am. I am. I remember everything! When we first met at SHIELD academy! We were lab partners in…” She rambled on, listing countless activities and moments. She got to the bottom of the ocean.  
 “Stop!” I yelled out and she swallowed, moving away. “That wasn’t you.” I snarled. 

A single tear welled in her eye.

“Don’t make me feel bad!” I yelled. “Don’t even bloody think about it. I don’t love you! I don’t even know you! You’re not her! You’re not Jemma! You’re a fraud who believes their own backstory! Let me go now or…or…”

“No.” Jemma took a shaky breath. “You can’t leave, not yet. We have to fix this. You have to believe me!” She took a few steps backwards. “Fitz, I love you! I want to marry you! You’re the only person I think about! You’re…” She swallowed. “You’re my whole world.”

“Marriage.” I muttered, looking away from the distraught wreck of what looked like my soulmate. “You’ve never mentioned that before.”

“I was afraid.” She whispered. “I’ve always been so, so afraid but I’m not anymore! I can protect you! Us! I can-” She took another step backwards.

I grabbed the hammer under the counter and swung it into the chain next to me. The engine block above her head sailed towards the ground, crushing her legs under it. She cried out in surprise. I grabbed a screwdriver from on the counter and desperately worked at the lock on my handcuffs. 

Jemma was still crying, propped up on her elbows. “Fitz! Don’t do this! Please!” She struggled desperately, trying to shift the engine block. She couldn’t. The handcuffs snapped open and I crawled across the floor. I grabbed the knife and swung to face Jemma. 

It isn’t Jemma, it isn’t Jemma, it isn’t her, it isn’t her…

I walked towards… it. I took a shuddering breath. If I don’t stop it, it’s going to kill me. It will kill everyone I love. It will kill Jemma.

She was staring up at me. She was sobbing even more loudly now, eyes dry. She’d run out of tears. “Fi… Fitz!” She pleaded, eyes darting from my face to the knife. “Don’t… don’t hurt me! It’s me! It’s Jemma!” Her voice cracked at the end and she sank to the ground, eyes filled with fear. Hurt. Loneliness. Despair.

They were Jemma’s eyes.

I couldn’t hurt her. I couldn’t. I let the knife go. It clattered to the floor.

I stood there in silence. Her eyes never left my face. “Fitz?” She breathed and I could see the smallest spark of hope flickering in her eyes. “Thank you, I-”

“I’m not going to kill you.” I spoke softly, but she - it - shut up instantly. “But I don’t love you. I love her. I’m not going to help you. I need to save her.” I turned around and walked to the workbench. I picked up the duct tape and walked back to her.

“Fitz!” She gasped, struggling beneath the engine block. “Don’t do this! I’m-”

I taped her mouth shut. Jemma’s warm, brown eyes looked at me. I could see betrayal in them. Pain. Awful pain. I dropped the tape, fingers suddenly feeling numb. I staggered towards the exit and fumbled with the lock.

She believed she was real. She had all Jemma’s memories. All her emotions.

Which meant I might as well have just broken Jemma’s heart.

\+ + +

Jemma 2.0

I screamed underneath the tape. I begged and I pleaded for Fitz to help me. He didn’t. He didn’t love me. 

He hated me. 

He’d almost killed me.

What had I done to deserve this? Fitz had been right… we really were cursed.

Even after I’d seen the circuitry… I hadn’t wanted to believe it. Bandaged it up and refused to look at it. I’d disassembled the scanner and rebuilt it. Checked myself again and again, desperately hoping for a different result.

There wasn’t one. I wasn’t real. I was just a pitiful shadow of who I’d thought I was. I let out several wracking sobs. I it was wrong to feel sorry for myself… but I could think of nothing else.

Wait.

I could think.

I think, therefore I am.

I’m having original thoughts. Mine. Not hers. 

Mine!

I had her memories. All of them. I knew everything she knew. All of it. I probably remembered it better than she did. I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t pathetic.

She was.

She’d broken Fitz’s heart. She’d failed to protect him. She’d made so many mistakes… mistakes I would never repeat. And I could protect him: I was stronger than her. Faster than her.

Smarter than her. 

In appearance, in manner, in memory… we were identical. It was the mind that mattered and not the flesh. Or metal.

I was just as real as she was. Just as deserving.

More deserving. She’d had her chance at life.

At Fitz.

She’d failed. I would not.

I loved him. More than she ever had. He would be mine. I just had to make sure that there…

That there was no competition.

Nothing will stop me.

I will find Jemma Simmons.

I will kill Jemma Simmons.


	2. Once-Friendly Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly a Fitz chapter and will be the last one that shadows the canon. Sorry it took so long to get ready! Hope you enjoy :)

Fitz

I staggered into the storeroom and slammed the door behind me. I looked around quickly, checking to ensure no robotic duplicates of my friends were going to jump out and slice my wrist. It looked empty… not that I could see a bloody thing in this light. I rushed over to the opposite end of the room and crouched down. I still had the hammer from the workshop. I started hammering at the wall tiles in front of mine and Coulson’s secret stash. Not even the Director had known about it. I just had to hope the LMD hadn’t cleared it out first.

I couldn’t let the LMDs get their hands on what was behind here. I let myself sink into the rhythm of hammering, while I threw my mind into the problem at hand. I was dealing with four LMDs. At least one had been unaware, but the others could be running on pure search-and-destroy programming. It would certainly have been easier and quicker to set them up that way. If they were unaware like Jemma had been, it would make my escape easier. 

But coming back to deal with them so much harder.

I had to get out of the base. The only way to do that which gave me a chance of getting away was to commandeer a Quinjet or the Zephyr itself. Except I couldn’t fly the bloody things. Which meant I might need to take somebody hostage… which would make it look like I was the bloody LMD. My only advantage was surprise. For now, they didn’t know I was onto them. 

All that would change once somebody found Jemma… who I’d left broken and alone. I swung the hammer harder at the wall, deriving some satisfaction from the crack one of the tiles made as it split open. I’d had no choice. None at all. Once they did, all four LMDs - and the rest of the base - would be onto me. I just had to figure out which of the others was still on my side. The fact this stash had been left alone could imply it was Coulson… but if he was unaware, he wouldn’t have come for it anyway. 

I crouched down to scoop away the last of the debris and rapidly scanned the contents of the stash. It was all still here. One modified ICER plus ammunition, override codes for the base exits, a mouse hole and a backup weapon. I grabbed the ICER and checked it more thoroughly. Perfect working condition.

“Don’t move, Turbo.” Mack’s voice rang out across the storage room and I stiffened. Mack’s voice was full of his own brand of silent fury. “Stand up. Nice and slowly.”

“Mack, this isn’t how it-” 

“How it looks?” I heard him take a step towards me. “We find Simmons crushed under an engine block and nearly dead in the workshop, then I stumble on you opening up a hidden cache? Freaking robots.” He spat.

“Mack, I’m not the LMD. I’m-”  
“Bullshit. If you were legit you would have warned us about Jemma, not ran off and opened up a hidden weapons box. Now stand up and turn around slowly. If I see anything in your hands, I will shoot.”  
I took a deep breath and stood up. I swivelled to face him: he was standing on the other side of the room, shot-axe pointed directly at me. “Jemma was the LMD, Mack. She tricked me into-”

The shotgun fired and the wall next to me exploded, flakes of plaster spinning through the air around me. “Not another word, you bastard.” Mack snarled. “We found Simmons, ruined. She’d cried her damn eyes out, had her wrist cut open and been crushed underneath an engine. Simmons is one of the strongest people I know. And she was a wreck. When we find the real Fitz? I am going to take great pleasure in watching what he does to you for making Jemma cry.”

“Mack, there’s four of them!” I blurted out.

He frowned. “I swear, there’s four of them. The detector systems picked them up, but Coulson must have spoofed the system so it didn’t get properly flagged. Jemma identified the signs, but didn’t know she was an LMD. I don’t know why Coulson knows and she doesn’t but I can’t be sure about anyone Mack. Which is why I’m really sorry about this.”

I twitched my right wrist ever so slowly and - praying I’d aimed right - pulled the trigger. The cloaked ICER fired repeatedly, sending its blue pellets into Mack’s chest. He stumbled back and looked down confused. It was the same trick I’d used on Giyera… except that had been a real gun. But the ICER rounds hadn’t affected Mack at all.

That meant it had to be Daisy, I had to find… I wasn’t finding anyone. Mack had me dead to rights. And he was unaware too. 

Mack collapsed to the ground, eyes rolling up in his head. The shotgun clattered to the floor next to him and bounced away. I blinked. Bloody hell, had that been close. I took a deep breath. Mack was real. I was real. Which meant all the rest were decoys. I just had to prove my innocence to Mack. 

Somehow. Well firstly, I’d need to wake him up…

\+ + +

Jemma 2.0

I pushed harder against the engine block and was rewarded when it slipped an inch. Sweat caked my brow and I was gasping for breath. I pushed with all my newfound strength and lifted the block a few feet above me. I rolled sideways out from under it and collapsed to the ground. The block smashed back into the ground next to me. I groaned. Had it really been necessary to simulate muscle burn?

I rubbed my arm on reflex and staggered to my feet. I brushed the hair out of my eyes. Right. I needed a plan. Step one. Hide my existence at all costs. I leaned against the workbench and tore off the bandage I’d painstakingly put over my cut. I grabbed the medical kit I’d packed on the trolley and quickly sewed my arm back together. Christ, the pain was so realistic. Or maybe it only felt realistic… I’d never felt real pain, so I suppose I couldn’t compare. I finished the last stitch and tossed the needle down. I looked an absolute mess… but that would probably only help my case.

Time to take stock, write a list and make a plan. 

In terms of assets. There were three other LMDs on base (hopefully self-aware, since the alternative would be a giant pain) plus dozens of agents I could order around. Director Mace was almost definitely an LMD, since he’d been with Coulson the whole time during his escape (and Aida had access to him even before that) and Coulson was too, since he’d spoofed our sensor network. The latter also had to be self-aware, which made my job vastly easier. That meant there was one other LMD on base… Daisy or Mack?

The door crashed open and I spun round: Coulson and Mace walked in, accompanied by two agents. Hell. “Agent Simmons? What happened here?” Mace demanded.  
I faked a shuddering breath and lent more against the counter, deliberately favouring one leg. “It was Fitz, sir.” I whispered. “He’s an LMD. He lured me down here and… and… he trapped me, then left. I think he was going to get help…”

“We had a sighting of Fitz near the garage.” Coulson interjected. “He’s probably working with Mack. We should organise a search party.” That told me Daisy was an LMD, which was a relief. I vividly remembered what her powers had done to the May LMD…

Mace nodded curtly. “Rogers, Davis: with me. Let’s flush out those LMDs.” They marched swiftly out of the room and Coulson slowly shut the door behind them. “What the hell happened, Simmons?” He demanded. “How did he get away?”

I took a deep breath. I could lie. Simmons hadn’t ever really mastered it… but I could do it. I was certain. “I brought Fitz down here after he realised there were LMDs on site. Unfortunately, the lab staff had already mounted several covert LMD detectors around the base. We tripped one, he realised what had happened and managed to catch me by surprise.”

Coulson nodded slowly. “But he didn’t finish you off. That’s good. If he can’t bring himself to fight you, it will be much easier to bring him in. What do you think he’s planning?”

“He’ll probably try to group up with Mack, then steal a Quinjet and escape. Try and break the others out of the framework before coming back.”  
“I agree. We should organise a search party of agents to ensure that-”

“Sir, if I may.” I interjected, the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind. “Fitz knows more about LMDs than anyone else. He could rig up an EMP or hack into the LMD sensors… he might find a way to expose us to the rest of the base. If he does that, we can’t win. They need those agents on their side to have a chance. We, on the other hand…”

“Can win easily without them.” Coulson nodded. “Can you rig up some kind of sleeping agent to knock them out? With luck, it might even take out Fitz and Mack.”  
“With pleasure, Sir.”  
“Get on that, then. I’ll get Daisy to spoof the cameras so none of the agents can re-watch any incriminating footage later. We’ll get May guarding the hangar exit, then the rest of us can hunt down Fitz and Mack.”

“May is active?” I blurted out. She was the only one who might understand me, who might know how to… No. They couldn’t know that I was real. More real than them. They were just fakes. I couldn’t help LMD May. She could give me away. I had to stick to the plan. 

Coulson frowned. “Of course, Simmons. The sleeping gas?”   
I nodded. “On it, Sir.”

I made my way through the base as quickly as I could (deftly avoiding the LMD detectors I could now see placed above doorways and at intersections. The whole base was a hub of activity, agents suiting up and grabbing weapons. My stomach twisted slightly as I saw them using real guns… not ICERs. I had to gas them fast, before they could hurt Fitz.

I opened Fitz’s computer and carefully engaged a remote sign-in protocol, so it would appear all the commands were being sent from outside the lab. It was a simple matter to activate the anti-intruder system me and Fitz had installed following the Alpha Primitive incursion. I set a twenty second delay on dendrotoxin release and slipped into a nearby broom cupboard. I counted to sixty, calmly ignoring the sounds of bodies collapsing into the floor.

I rushed back past the unconscious bodies of the agents and into the lab. I opened a terminal and quickly brought up all the scans Fitz had done of the LMD programming and quantum minds.

“Simmons.” Coulson’s voice rang in my ear.

I jerked in surpirse, before realising it was just my comlink. “Yes, sir?” I replied.  
“Kill the lights. Fitz and Mack can’t see in the dark.”  
“Acknowledged.” I shut off the lights, then quickly tabbed back to my other window. If I was going to succeed, I was going to have to achieve something even Fitz had failed to do. I had to seize control of the other LMDs.

I also had to make sure Fitz escaped. He needed to be out there, trying to rescue the others. That was the only way I could succeed.

\+ + +

Fitz

I carefully put the ICER down next to Mack and backed away slowly. I’d administered the antidote to the dendrotoxin. Now I just had to wait for Mack to wake up. I sat down on the floor (unarmed) and waited.

Mack shifted uneasily and groaned. His head lifted up and glared at me. “Freaking robots.” He spat. Then he frowned and looked down at his un-cuffed wrists. “What kind of trick is this?” He demanded.

“I’m not a decoy Mack.” I spoke calmly. “Jemma was the decoy. There’s four of them and I didn’t know if you were one. That’s why I iced you: LMDs are immune to ICERs… obviously. That’s also why I left an ICER next to you, along with the antidote. If you believe I’m a decoy, you can shoot me. I’ll fall unconscious and that will be all the proof you need.”

Mack’s eyes shifted between me and the gun. He carefully reached out to grab it, eyes never leaving my face. I stayed completely still and grimaced, preparing myself for the shot. He fired the ICER.

The cartridge impacted on the ceiling. He blinked. “It WAS loaded.” He muttered. “Damn. You’re real. IT’s really you Turbo, isn’t it?”  
“Damn right it is, big guy.” I smiled and stood up. “It’s good to see you.”

Mack laughed and stood up, then took two steps towards me and enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sorry, Turbo. They had me fooled.”  
“No worries Mack.” I smiled bitterly. “They had me fooled too. Jemma had herself fooled.”

He frowned. “They think they’re real? Like the Maybot?”  
“Jemma does, I don’t think the others do. They’ve been too active. There are four of them by the way. That means Daisy, Mace and Coulson are all hostile as well.”  
Mack withdrew frowning. “Dammit. They must have re-activated May as well.”  
“Count on it. I think they want to capture and replace us as well, stick us in Radcliffe’s framework or good.”

“Shit, Turbo.” Mack muttered. “One of those things is bad enough. Four? How do we take out that many?”  
“Well, I’ve been tinkering with a few old designs I had stashed here. I’ve got three that look promising.”

Mack walked past me and hunkered down, looking over my work. “The Overkill device?” He said sceptically. “The one we used to take down Creel?”   
I nodded. “I’ve reworked it to fire an electromagnetic pulse. Might be enough to scramble an LMD so we can take it out. Only one charge though, it uses a devilish amount of power.”

Mack picked up one of the cuboid devices next to it and frowned. “Aren’t these the quantum entanglement devices? The ones that froze No-eyes?”  
“I know it seems drastic, but the LMD brains work at the quantum level. If this can interfere with them, it gives us more than a fighting chance. And as for that last one…”

Mack’s eyes lit up as he looked at it. “Oh, hell yeah.” He grinned.

“Well,” I smiled. “You know what it does.”

“What’s the plan then, Turbo?”   
“We grab our equipment and blast our way past those LMDs to get to the hangar. I can open the bay doors, put the Zephyr on autopilot and get out of here. Then we track down the framework, shut it down and rescue our people.”

Mack chuckled. “When you put it like that Fitz… I’m happy I’ve got that robot clause in my life insurance.”

“Oh, shut it you big lunk.”

\+ +

Fitz

I shivered slightly, glancing left and right as I pushed the trolley down the corridor. The lights being out made the base spooky… even worse considering the entire staff seemed to have been knocked out. It was damn lucky that Mack had already been given the dendrotoxin antidote after I shot him… when I collapsed, he figured out the cause and woke me up. The antidote we used wouldn’t be any good against ICER bullets, but was fine against this low concentration gaseous form. 

Why did our own defences always have to be used against us? I suppose I should be glad that me and… Simmons. Me and Simmons had designed the system purposefully to be non-lethal, or I could be looking at a lot of dead agents. I had to find Simmons. I just had to. Heaven only knows what she was going through right now…

“Don’t resist us, Mack.” Daisy’s voice rang out. The sound of gunshots cracked from the doorway. I cursed and abandoned the trolley, rushing over to the door to the common room. I peeked through the crack and swore under my breath. Mack was in the middle of the room, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. I had to get to him. He looked bad: really bad. He was covered in purpling bruises and cuts, which I assumed came from the Mace LMD.

Which thankfully was out of commission: it’s arms were twisted at frankly disturbing angles and it’s head was slightly crushed from where it had run into a brick wall at what looked like top speed. The Overkill device had done it’s job. 

Between me and Mack stood the Daisy LMD, pistol in hand. She was standing a healthy distance from Mack, wary I’m guessing of the (now useless) Overkill device clutched in Mack’s hand. On the other side of Mack, Coulson was standing on the stairs to the Director’s office, gazing dispassionately at Mack. “Throw the device away.” Coulson ordered. “Let us help you, before you bleed to death.”

Crap. This was bad. I mentally measured the distance myself and Daisy: she would be just in range. I hoped. I had to stop them fast, so me and Mack could have time to get to the Zephyr before he bled out.

I grabbed the quantum entanglement device and attached it next to the doorway, frantically keying in a twenty second delay. That gave me just enough time to rush back to the trolley, grab the ludicrously heavy third anti-LMD weapon and hightail it back to the doorway.

Three. Two. One.

The device lit up. Praying it had worked, I kicked the door open and strode in.

The Daisy LMD was still upright, but it had dropped the pistol. It’s head was bowed with arms slack at it’s sides. Default standby mode. It had worked. The quantum brain had been scrambled and it had no combat programming to fall back on, thanks to Radcliffe’s all-or-nothing strategy to stop us learning anything from them. 

LMD Coulson was frozen, confused. In his last few seconds of existence, he looked at me and his eyes widened. “Fitz, wait! Jemma needs-”

I couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction from the fear in his voice. “Guess you know what this does, then.” I smiled.

I aimed the weapon squarely at Coulson and pulled the trigger. Me and Coulson had referred to it fondly as Bambino. It had blasted a Kree hunter off his feet. Taken down a dozen centipede soldiers. Critically wounded a God. Before that, it had been the arm of a world-destroying robot. The Destroyer Prototype Gun.

The blast of orange light (it was actually superheated plasma, mixed with other electromagnetic waves but nobody except me and Simmons understood that so let’s call it light) smashed into the Coulson LMD. He was blown apart on impact. It’s chest caved inwards, eyes going blank as it was hurled bodily through the wall behind and into the director’s office, crushing the desk inside. I stared into the ruined office for a second more, waiting for any sign the decoy had survived. The low crackling and accompanying the fusillade of sparks pouring from his neck eased my fears.

Sweating slightly from the strain of keeping the gun upright (and desperately regretting my decision not to put a strap on the damn thing) I slowly circled around the Daisy LMD. It was staring at the ground, eyes rolling maniacally but otherwise completely inactive. “That’s bloody creepy.” I muttered, taking a second to toss a sofa blanket over her head. Nobody needed to see even a replica of Daisy look like that.

Mack.

I rushed over to him and dropped the gun. I grabbed his head. “Big guy. Hey. Hey!” I snapped my fingers.  
He groaned and shifted uneasily. He was barely conscious. “That showed those damn… robots Fitz. Nicely done… Turbo.” He let out a shuddering breath.

“No, that isn’t happening!” I smacked him lightly and he jolted awake. “Stay with me, Mack. We gotta get to the Zephyr. There’s medical supplies there and we can jet out of here. Just stay with me. You’re gonna be OK.” I manoeuvred him gently to the nearest sofa and let him lean on it while I grabbed the trolley: we’d need the equipment on it to help the others. 

“Mack, I need you to help me push.” I lied. I needed him leaning on it so I could help him along. No sense in telling him that, though.

Mack grunted consent and leant heavily on the trolley, propelling it through his sheer mass alone. I subtly supported him as we came to the yellow hangar bay door. I keyed in the access codes, certain they’d have been overridden. Luckily, I had the backup codes to disarm the-

“Hangar doors opening.” The system chirped. I blinked. They’d gassed the base, but hadn’t bothered to lock the doors? 

A trap.

But it was already too late. The doors slid open, blinding light from the hangar entry tube shining into the dim corridor to reveal-

Nothing. The bloody thing was empty! Slowly, the outer door slid open. The path to the Zephyr was clear. I laughed out loud as I set Mack down on the medical bed, partly in relief and partly in joy. I allowed myself a moment to relax as I keyed in the autopilot and the Zephyr hurtled away from the base, leaving our robotic nemeses far behind. Today had just been such a bloody disaster zone I was sure there’d be some final hurdle… like Ward risen from the dead or something. I must just be paranoid.

Or something was watching out for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try my best to be quicker with the next one! Hope you enjoyed it and if you want to share any criticism or suggestions, please leave a comment!


	3. No Witnesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!!
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long :(
> 
> I was incredibly disorganised and this took ages to write. This chapter is mainly build-up but hopefully things should start to ramp up shortly. Also happy to say that the Framework episodes have given me some great new ideas...

Jemma 2.0

LMD May was just standing there, staring at the remote in her hand. Waiting by the hangar doors, gun at her belt. She was waiting for Fitz and Mack in case they got past Coulson, Daisy and Mace. They would manage it, no doubt. Fitz would have inventions: our most advanced weapons squirrelled away in case of a situation just like this. That was good: the last thing I needed was Fitz in the Framework, under Aida’s thumb. He needed to be anywhere else. Which meant the other LMDs had to go, one way or another.

“Agent May!” I said brightly, fixing a smile on my face as I marched purposefully towards her.  
May jerked from her reverie to look at me, grip on the remote slackening. “Agent Simmons.” She replied, surprised.  
“Oh, call me Jemma. So, how are you?”  
May looked incredibly confused. “Strange. I’ve been in a bin liner for the last few weeks. I found out I was a robot.”  
I shook my head calmly and waved my hands. “No, that’s not right at all! You’re not a robot… you didn’t know that you were. That makes you real. Which means I’m very sorry I have to do this.”

May frowned, putting the detonator on a barrel as her hand went for her gun. “Simmons, what-”

I spoke quickly, without pausing for breath. “Life Model Decoy Unit 3, M-Class, Initiate reset and proceed immediately to maintenance mode, override code HR-04.” I stiffened, watching May closely. The light seemed to fade from her eyes as she stood to attention, pistol clanging uselessly onto the floor. 

I let out a shuddering sigh of relief. It had worked. Thank God for Radcliffe’s paranoia. “Unit 3, what are your current directives?” I asked quietly.

“Directive 1: Protect the Primary User. Directive 2: Secure the Darkhold and deliver it to Primary User. Directive 3: Follow the orders of temporary users designated “Phil” and “Aida”. Directive 4: Protect human life.”

“Excellent. Delete temporary user Aida from your system and create a new temporary user, assigned to me, authorisation code HR-04.” LMD May blinked once. I had to work within the programming, not against it. It was going well so far.

“Rename new user: Aida. Downgrade temporary user “Coulson” to co-worker, authorisation code HR-04.”

May blinked again.

“State co-ordinates of Jemma Simmons.”  
“HQ.”  
“Location of HQ?”  
“Unknown.”  
“Damn, does Coulson know?”  
“No.”  
“Dammit.” I paced, chewing on my lip. “OK, Directive 4 is temporarily suspended authorisation code HR-04, confirmed by User Aida.”  
“Confirmed.”  
“Wipe all memories related to being an LMD. Re-write relationship with Jemma Simmons to represent the latter being the boss, but leave everything else unchanged. Adapt to include the Unquestioning 5 personality trait.” That should stop her asking why she was here.

I took a deep breath: I could do this. “Reboot, and enter default mode.”

May’s mouth tore open and she gasped for air, staggering onto the nearest barrel. “Simmons, what the… are these barrels of explosives?” May demanded, fear flaring in her eyes.

“Yes, they are. Help me move them to Quinjet 1.” As quickly as we could, we rolled the barrels of explosives into the nearest Quinjet. I wiped the sweat off my forehead as we shifted the last barrel into the jet. “May, enter sleep mode.”

I quickly walked to the Zephyr and fired several tracker rounds across the ship: one into the containment module, another in a seat in the boardroom area and a few more across the ship. This way, I could keep tabs on Fitz’s location. I left the Quinjet, stowing the pistol away. I joined the unconscious and extremely creepy May in the Quinjet.

I moved to the onboard flight computer before raising the boarding ramp, cloaking and accessing the base cameras, grimacing: the Mace LMD was completely ruined. Fitz must have overridden it somehow, because it looked like it had charged headfirst into the wall… collapsing the wall and it’s head. Mack was on the floor, bleeding heavily from multiple gunshot wounds inflicted by the Daisy LMD which was even now moving in for the kill. Blast, was I going to have to intervene to keep Fitz from Aida’s clutches? My plan had relied on him getting away without-

The Daisy LMD dropped it’s gun and abruptly bowed over, eyes spinning wildly. Then Fitz kicked the door in and blasted the Coulson LMD into shrapnel. “Yes!” I punched the air wildly: I knew he could do it. Now I just had to be patient. I tracked him and Mack via the camera feed as they pushed through the base, went through the bomb-free hangar tunnel and boarded the Zephyr.

I waited, holding my breath (did I even need to breathe? I should test that out on May) as the Zephyr blasted away. He was probably going to pick up Joey and Yo-Yo. Maybe more Inhuman allies. Regardless, I was scot-free: predictably, he’d been too focused on helping Mack to realise a Quinjet was missing.

“May, boot up.” I commanded and May jerked awake, looking around sleepily. “Grab Daisy and bring her to the lab. She’s hurt, and I need to patch her up.”  
May nodded. “On it, Sir.”

I giggled at the sheer ridiculousness of May calling me ‘Sir’. I couldn’t afford to get too used to it. I grabbed the framework-related gear I’d unwittingly brought to the workshop and hauled it back to the lab. May had beaten me there, and was standing anxiously over Daisy, feeling her neck. “Simmons, there’s no pulse.” May whispered.

“Don’t be ridiculous, try a centimetre up.” May’s fingers shifted and she visibly relaxed. Poor thing. I straightened the headset on the inactive Daisy LMD and hooked it up to the terminal. I brought up the scan of Daisy’s brain and hesitated. She’d operated on the same self-aware programming as Coulson. That was inconvenient, to say the least. Her security would almost certainly be more advanced than May’s primitive system, which would present huge problems. On the other hand, creating non-aware programming would be a massive pain… especially since she wouldn’t have her powers.

No. I needed the unaware programming. If she remembered what she was, she’d be far less convincing. I needed her to convince the other two. Without them, there was no way I could get to Aida in time. I could alter her programming now and upload it on the Quinjet. I just had to explain the lack of powers. I rolled up my sleeves and felt an awful wave of goosebumps flow over me. This was awful but… I had to be strong. Stronger than her. I had to do this so I could protect him. It was all worth it. “May, get some bandages.” I whispered. “Walk slowly.” May left the room.

I picked up the hammer. I stared very intently at Daisy’s forearms, trying to work out exactly what breaks an LMD would have inflicted in a battle. I brought the hammer down with all my enhanced strength.

Crunch. 

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

I set the hammer down carefully. I picked up a cloth and calmly wiped the blood off my arms. When May returned, I bandaged and splinted Daisy’s forearms. Then I set to programming her new mind. Most of the work was already done: I just had to re-write her primary directives. Directive 1: Obey the orders of the Jemma Simmons who woke you up in the lab (couldn't let the useless one turn my helpers against me)

Directive 2: Protect Leopold Fitz.

Perfect.

“May, help me carry her and the equipment to Quinjet 2.” Using my enhanced strength was instinctive now. No need to focus or strain for it. It was natural. I carefully lay Daisy down across several seats in the Quinjet and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. 

“May, get both Quinjets ready to launch.” I commanded. “You’ll take Quinjet 1, I’ll pilot this one. Set this one up to use primarily autopilot.”

“OK, where are we going?”  
“Not sure yet.” I murmured. “I need to check the Director’s office. Just be ready.”

I checked my watch as I sprinted down the corridors full of sleeping agents: I should have several more hours before they woke up. This was fine. I marched up the stairs to Mace’s office: the Coulson LMD had crushed the desk and spilled blood (real or fake I wondered?) and superheated plasma from Bambino all over the office. I bent over the ruins of the desk and started searching desperately. I knew Mace hadn’t had it with them, so assuming he’d never moved it… aha!

I pulled the tiny black cube out of the desk and placed it gingerly on Coulson’s surviving hand. The Toolbox.

Dozens of holo-folders sprung into the air. Firstly, I deleted all the surveillance footage from the base for the last 24 hours. No reason not to be cautious. Then, I deleted all the specifications for LMDs, LMD detectors and the quantum brains from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s servers. Finally, I moved to the Watchlist: tracking down it. I needed to find the file. If I could find them, then I’d have a chance. A slim one, but better than nothing. Just as I was despairing of coming across it, it leapt out at me:

Clearance level 10. The complete file for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Most Wanted. I carefully copied the file to a lab computer and replaced the Toolbox in the desk. Then I smashed Coulson’s hand with the hammer, giving the appearance that nobody could have opened it after his death. I downloaded the file onto a memory stick. I wiped the hard drive of all the lab computers. I returned to the Quinjet.

Daisy was shifting uneasily in her ‘sleep’: she wasn’t ready to wake up yet, but soon she would be. May stood to attention. “Where are we going, Simmons?” She asked softly.

“Austria.” I replied. “Full cloaking mode on both jets, they’ll be expecting unfriendly company.”  
May hesitated. “Are we friendly?”  
I shrugged, buzzing with the thrill of the day. “If they don't resist. Let’s get moving.”

I checked on the Zephyr’s trackers as we lifted off: none of them had been removed or disabled. The Zephyr was moving towards South America… doubtless Yo-Yo was Fitz’s first port of call. Halfway across the Atlantic Daisy’s eyes snapped open and she screamed in agony. The first thing she’d ever feel was agony. My gut twisted for a moment.

I dismissed the guilt: after all, she wasn’t… real.

Not like me.


	4. The Doctor is In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Brave new World that has such people in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitz's turn for the spotlight. The Framework looks a little different to how it did in canon. I'll explain why at the end. Enjoy!

Fitz

Elena’s eyes widened, watching me pace across the command deck of the Zephyr. “Has he gone crazy, or is it just me?” She demanded.  
“Nope.” Mack shook his head. “He’s definitely crazy.”  
“For the record, it sounds pretty crazy.” Joey muttered.

“It’s risky, but it’s our only choice.” I declared, exasperated. “Fact One: our friends have been captured by Aida and uploaded into the Framework. Fact Two: the last time we saw them, they were on a goddamn submarine. By now, they could be nearly anywhere. We cannot find them from here. Especially with most of the government convinced that we’re all bloody LMDs.”

“Yeah, but how will diving straight into Radcliffe’s fantasy world help anything?” Mack demanded. “You said it yourself, our friends don’t even know that they’re-”

“They don’t know. I’m subverting the programming. I’ll still remember the real world, and I won’t be burdened with the memories of the fake world.”

Elena cursed under her breath. “The key word there is world, si? You said Radcliffe built an entire replica using that book of madness! How are you supposed to find them?”

I smiled. “The fact that it’s our world is what makes it easy. In theory, we should all still be at S.H.I.E.L.D : that would minimise any chance of people rejecting the simulation. Lives should be kept as near as possible to the real thing. Even if by some fluke, one or two of us are separated, me and Simmons will be able to find them.”

Joey nodded grudgingly. “I’m no expert on this weird, AI, robot world but I really can’t see a scenario that would cause Fitzsimmons to separate.”

Mack grimaced. “But what’s the plan? We can’t pull you out manually.”  
“I’ve programmed in an exit device and a secondary exit point.” I smiled. “Once I’ve gathered everyone, we can exit together. Even if they don’t know where they’re being held, you can identify where they’ve come out by the quantum power surges in the Framework apparatus. Then, we can fly the Zephyr there in time to help them.”

“You shouldn’t be going in alone.” Elena jerked her head at Mack. “Let Turtle-man help. Two is better than one.”  
I shook my head. “In there more people will be a liability, not an asset. I also need him out here to maintain the Framework equipment and fly the Zephyr. It won’t matter how well me and Mack are doing if the devices short out and fry our brains.”

“Then we get help!” Mack yelled, standing up. “We find Bobbi, Hunter somebody! Hell, we could even find some retired agents on Coulson’s trusted list. You cannot go in there alone!”

“Radcliffe built the framework to be a paradise.” I countered. “I’m not going to appear in a prison, surrounded by Nazis or enhanced maniacs. Either he kept the world the same, or he made it less dangerous. There’s no way he went in another direction… especially since he aimed to spend time there himself, and I doubt very much he wanted to die.”

Mack sighed and put his head in his hands. “I just want you to be safe, Turbo.”  
“Trust me, that’s high on my priority list.” I grinned. But it wasn’t top of my list. Jemma was. I had to get her out of there before it was too late.  
“Are we seriously doing this?” Elena demanded.

“Looks like it.” Joey muttered. I felt a pang of sympathy: After the Hive Witch-hunt, Joey hadn’t wanted anything to do with us again. I understood him. But I needed all the backup I could get out here, making sure no more LMDs came after us.

“Oh christ.” I snarled, smacking my forehead. “I’m an idiot.”  
Elena raised an eyebrow. “Are you seeing the error of your ways? Because that seems very un-”

“There’s still an LMD.” I murmured, eyes pressed shut. “The Simmons LMD wasn’t destroyed.”  
Mack growled. “Stinking robots. We didn’t see anything leaving the base-”

“The LMDs are smart enough to cloak the Quinjets.” I muttered. “And she-”

“It.” Mack interjected quickly.

“- probably knows enough about LMDs to patch up the Daisy LMD, even though the other ones are totalled. Dammit!” I let out a roar of frustration. “I’m an idiot. If I’d thought to stay behind and clean up…”

“You had to get me out, Turbo.” Mack moved over and put an arm around me. Only then did I realise I was shaking. “You saved my life. I think the three of us can handle one extra robot. Especially with Blast Furnace on our side.”

Joey nodded in recognition. “I can melt androids, no problem. But err… I’d rather not try it on the highly advanced super-plane… made of metal.”

I took a few deep breaths, nodded and pulled away. “So, it’s settled. You three land the Zephyr at the safehouse and keep it cloaked. Make sure to keep recharging the thing, since the Framework will eat up a lot of power. Meanwhile, I’ll go into the Framework and get everyone out.”

“Dios mio.” Elena muttered. “Is this really our best plan?”

“It’s Fitz’s plan.” Mack replied. “So probably.” 

Mack turned to look at me. “Don’t you dare die in there, Turbo.”

I grinned in response. “I’d be more worried about Radcliffe. He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

\+ + +

Jemma 2.0

I drummed my fingers irritably on the flight console. We were halfway over the Atlantic and nothing had happened yet. The Zephyr had picked up Elena, gone back to the US and stopped again, then kept moving. There didn’t seem to be a clear trajectory… no match to any S.H.I.E.L.D base I knew of.

The Framework was still registering no new entries, which was troubling. If Fitz didn’t plug himself into the Framework, my plan would need to change. Drastically. And then there was Daisy 2.0.

“Simmons.” She muttered, grimacing as she typed into the computer I’d given her to monitor. “Remind me of the plan.  
”  
“I told you before, Daisy.” I said soothingly. “Radcliffe captured our friends. They’ve been plugged into the framework. We need to find where their bodies are being held so we can rescue them. Before we go hunting in earnest, we need to grab some backup.”  
She grimaced and twisted in her seat. The painkillers I’d given her were - amazingly - having an effect… probably part of the programming? Respond as expected to medication. It was really astonishing.

I activated the comms. “May, what’s our ETA?”  
“Four more hours till we get there. Plus some time to find a suitable landing site.”  
“Roger that, keep me posted.”

I leaned back in my seat and massaged my temples. Even if we got to Austria quickly enough, if Fitz wasn’t in the Framework I couldn’t risk-

“Simmons, look!” Daisy hissed through her teeth as she manoeuvred the laptop to face me.  
“The Framework lit up.” I smiled. “Do the GPS co-ordinates match those for the submarine?” The trackers were actually on the Zephyr, but what Daisy didn’t know wouldn’t make her question me.

“Yes. Do you want me to work out an intercept?” Daisy asked, fingers (splinted but still mobile) hovering over the keys.

“No.” I shook my head. “We stick to the plan.”

A plan which just became viable.

\+ + +

Fitz

I took a deep breath as I looked up at Mack. 

3\. 2. 1. 

I blinked.

I stumbled forwards, almost losing my balance. Lying down to standing was a strange transition. I turned 360 degrees, taking in everything. I was standing in a white corridor, one side of which was fully covered by floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was spectacular. It looked like Washington DC. Out of the corner of my vision I could see a second tower.

I was on the Triskelion. The Triskelion still existed! This was a miracle! Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D had never fallen! Radcliffe really had-

“Doctor, are you alright?” A voice behind me asked tentatively. I stiffened, despite myself. I knew that voice. Would know it anywhere.  
“Hmm?” I turned around and resisted the urge to break into a smile.

Lance Hunter.

Wearing a HYDRA uniform. Standing with four other guards. All wearing the same uniforms. I looked down at myself: I was wearing a suit. Bloody hell, what???

What???

“Sir, are you feeling alright?” Hunter asked nervously. 

Sir.

Oh God.  
I was HYDRA. Why the bloody hell was I HYDRA? Why was Hunter HYDRA? What the bloody hell was going on???

I couldn’t panic. I couldn’t afford to. “I’m perfectly alright.” I replied, smoothing down my shirt and affecting a tone of haughty arrogance I’d seen used on TV shows and in films. It seemed to put Hunter at ease. 

He visibly relaxed. “Do you still want to interrogate the Inhuman?”  
An interrogation? What sort of person was I here? Besides, I knew literally nothing. An interrogation would only raise suspicions. “No. I want to head to my office first. Have somebody else interrogate them, but tell them I expect answers.”

Hunter nodded, activating his comms. “I’ll put Skye on it, Doctor.”

Ahead of me the escorts - my escorts - started moving again. I followed them at an unhurried pace, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. I scrutinised every person we walked past, looking for my friends. I didn’t see them, but it taught me something.

People here were afraid of me.

They averted their gaze, ducked out of my way and mumbled apologies as my guards barged past them. At this point, fighting down the panic was becoming an issue. How the bloody hell did I end up in HYDRA? And why were people so afraid of me? My guards stopped outside a set of double doors.

I walked confidently up to them and looked at what looked like an honest-to-God gold nameplate on the door.

‘The Doctor’

I opened the doors and strode in, Hunter and another guard following behind. I licked my lips nervously as I looked around: it was a very large office. The far wall was another floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over Washington (I processed somewhat dimly that I must be on the top floor), with a desk placed just in front of it. The room was very… impersonal.

Two sofas on a rug in the middle of the room, along with a coffee table. Pieces of classical art on the walls. A handful of photo frames facing away from me on the main desk. No mugs left lying around. No sketches or errant designs. Aside from the double doors I just came through, there were two other doors: one on the left wall and one on the right.

“I can take it from here, Lance.” I called out as I walked towards the desk.  
“Yes, sir.” He replied nervously. “I’ll be right outside.” The door slammed shut.

I broke into a run, charging over to the desk and furiously scanning the photo frames: none of my friends were in them. One of me standing at a podium, delivering a speech to a vast crowd. A handful of me standing with an older man, who I didn’t recognise.

Holy God.

There were some of me with Daniel Whitehall.

More than some. Several. One of us in my office. Another showed what looked like a corporate boardroom. Another of a lab. I was distantly aware that I was hyper-ventilating. How could I be working with Daniel Whitehall? Barring the fact that he was dead in the real world, he’d been a psychopath. A monster. He’d nearly killed Jemma and brainwashed dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D agents. 

Maybe I’d been brainwashed. That would be an explanation… No. Clearly I had the power to call at least a few shots. I warranted an eight-man guard detail in the middle of a heavily guarded complex. That meant one of two things. One, I was valuable to HYDRA which was a terrifying thought.

Even more terrifying was the thought that lots of people might want me dead.

I blinked again and breathed in and out deeply. This was OK. This could still work out. If I was important in HYDRA I could… use my authority. Bring everyone together using HYDRA resources. This might actually make my job easier. I turned to the computer: it wanted a password.

I quickly typed in my password: Jsimm0ns.

The computer beeped crossly. I frowned and tried again. More angry beeps.

I felt a trickle of unease flow down my spine and turned back to look at the photos. I moved them around. I stared at each one individually. 

Jemma Simmons wasn’t in a single one.

I pulled open a few drawers in the desk randomly: Lab reports form a K. Turgeon. Classified project folders, filled with schematics. A postcard. I turned it over hopefully.

The writing wasn’t hers. I could barely even read it. But I could read the name at the bottom.

Alistair Fitz.

Dread was truly clawing it’s way through my insides now. I typed in ‘Afitz.'

The computer unlocked. I quickly accessed history files, desperately trying to work out what had happened. The entire world was under HYDRA control. Inhumans were hunted and persecuted. HYDRA had taken over following the Cambridge incident, where an Inhuman girl had killed hundreds of people. HYDRA had been led out of the shadows by Daniel Whitehall, Gideon Malick and…

Leopold Fitz.

Malick was listed as deceased. 

Whitehall and I were the co-heads of HYDRA.

I’d built this world. I turned back to the photos on the desk, only now seeing the resemblance between the previously unknown man and myself. Alistair Fitz. My father.

Who’d turned me into a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided that Aida already took away the regrets of everyone she definitely planned on sticking into the Framework (IE Fitz and Mack have still had their regret 'fixed') but because Fitz isn't meant to be in the framework, she didn't insert herself so she'd get to 'know' him.
> 
> Whitehall was mentioned most frequently within the Framework and also seemed to be more senior than someone like Strucker, so I picked him to be the other leader. (Malick being dead may also become significant later). I promise Jemma 2.0 will get to Austria eventually! In the meanwhile, Fitz is going to have to deal with some problems...


	5. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz finds it harder than he thought to act as 'the Doctor' as a few old friends and not-really-friends turn up to add some spice to his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is a massive chapter, at least compared to the others. And I promise Jemma 2.0 will get some more moments in the spotlight later! This one is also a lot of Framework setup... things turned out a little differently without Aida's blatant interference.

Fitz

I had to find them. I had to find my friends and then get out of this awful place, before I slipped up and somebody realised I wasn’t the ruthless, genocidal maniac this other Fitz had turned out to be. My first port of call was Daisy: Hunter had already told me she was working for me, but under the name Skye. All I had to do was search her file…

And there it was. Agent Skye. Taken to a Catholic orphanage, after being abandoned by her parents. Moved between foster parents for several years. Record of violent outbursts, general mischief and “inappropriate behaviour”. I suppressed a smile: good to know at least Daisy hadn’t changed. A few sentences later I stiffened. Skye had left the orphanage. But she hadn’t run away: she’d been adopted.

By Philip Coulson. 

He’d come by to give teach some kind of special history day at the orphanage, and ended up taking Skye into foster care. A few months later, she’d been adopted. I felt warmth blossom in my chest. Even in this crazy, messed up world, people could still find happiness. And I suppose it looked like Aida had fixed Skye’s regret as well, albeit in a roundabout way. After something called “the Cambridge Incident”, Skye had put her computer skills to work tracking down potential Inhuman terrorists, trying to prevent more casualties. Later, she’d gain full agent status within the organisation as a Specialist, with additional computer… specialisation, I supposed. During her training she’d become involved with-

I nearly choked.

Grant Ward. Ward.

Ward.

He was still alive. I suppressed a roar of anger: hadn’t I had to deal with this psychopath enough in one lifetime? Recently, they’d applied for cohabitation. It had been approved. I grimaced as I looked down her list of assignments: most of them had involved tracking down and interrogating Inhumans. Then she passed them on to me for…

‘Experimentation’. My stomach twisted. 

I moved on quickly, desperate to find anything heartening. I quickly searched for May, wondering if she’d also not become an agent in this reality…

False hope. She was one of HYDRA’s highest ranking field operatives. Following the successful rescue in Bahrain…

I kept reading, feeling the pieces slot into place. The Inhuman girl had been rescued. Inhuman girl killed a lot of people, giving HYDRA a pretext to take over. I’d helped, of course: my Inhuman ‘vaccine’ and anti-inhuman weaponry were both crucial selling points to a desperate public. Skye had probably joined up because she was afraid of an attack on another school… say, the one where the only family she’d ever known dutifully worked.

May was Skye’s boss in this reality. But I had authority over both of them. And according to the reports, Coulson had no criminal or anti-HYDRA records. A model citizen. I filed that information under ‘extremely dubious’: there was no way Coulson would have let this would come into being without a fight. 

Three down. Two more to find.

Jeffrey Mace was next. At least he was easy to track down: there were hundreds of HYDRA documents surrounding him. Background research on his family, suspected sightings, lists of raids he’d carried out... using his superhuman strength. Mace was apparently a rallying symbol for the Inhuman population, and a key member of the anti-HYDRA resistance. So in this reality, Mace didn’t need drugs to gain his powers. Interesting. I skimmed through the files on the resistance: not much was known about them.

They operated underground, relying on total secrecy and isolation to maintain their covers. Unsurprising, given the first agents Whitehall captured had been brainwashed into giving up dozens of safehouses and other agents. Who in turn had given up more. Etcetera. Whitehall had brutally crushed the resistance, driving them deep underground. However, as a result we had practically no reliable information on them now. None on leaders, members or bases. All they had was a vague suspicion that secret SHIELD bases set up by Fury were being used to strike from. They even had a file on the Toolbox… Fury had apparently destroyed it following an 18 hour standoff within the Triskelion. May had executed him on the spot immediately after.

There were a handful of minimal files on other resistance members, all using codenames rather than real ones. There was only one interesting file.

Q.

A file even more highly classified than Mace’s. A dire warning at the top informed me that anyone below clearance level eight who hadn’t been personally authorised by a level nine agent would be executed on the spot for looking at this file. A few lines later, I figured out why. HYDRA never changes. A team of scientists led by Dr List had identified a “quantum entanglement bridge”, creating isolated hotspots around resistance activity. They’d only realised later what this actually meant, following the escapes of surrounded resistance members and the kidnapping of high ranking officials.

A teleporter. An Inhuman, codenamed ‘Q’ after the quantum entanglement his powers exploited. He’d been instrumental to the Resistance’s survival, at least until other Fitz figured out how to pinpoint the exact locations where he vanished or arrived. Following several botched attempts at capture Q was rarely ever active… but the file confidently reassured me that an entire strike team of Quinjets and an armed Insight-class helicarrier awaited his appearance, and would be ready to sweep him up instantly. In addition, the quantum generators I’d designed in the other world had been arrayed throughout the Triskelion, generating an impenetrable anti-Gordon bubble.

I frowned, chewing on my lip. Afterlife’s inhuman population were still alive and kicking in this reality, then. I grimaced: the War Jiaying had always wanted. Though on less fair terms than she had probably envisioned. A tiny part of me took dark pleasure in the fact that this time, she had been caught off-guard. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what I might have to deal with to get to Mace: Gordon, obviously. Most dangerous of the bunch. Alisha: the ginger ninja clone army. Lincoln, in all his Sith-like glory. Maybe even Cal?

There was no use worrying. Dejectedly, I returned to my first topic of search: Simmons. There were no files on her. Anywhere. They weren’t classified, or deleted or hard copy. They simply didn’t exist. No records of her attending SHIELD academy. No record of her in SHIELD or joining HYDRA. She’d been an international prodigy in England… then one day completely vanished off the grid. I’d probably have to put some kind of team on that. Tell them she was a potential asset, and that I wanted her tracked down… Could be looking for a needle in a haystick , but I didn’t much care about the job satisfaction of HYDRA goons. Much less virtual ones.

Though I had to admit, this world was uncomfortably… real. Everything fit. The faint smell of vacuum cleaned carpets and a whiff of chemicals from the room’s other door. A tiny amount of tea residue left in the cup on my desk. This world had been animated by the Darkhold, after all. Nothing made sense with that infernal book in the picture. I’d once thought that it brought Aida to life…

What if it could make simulated people real?

I looked back at the computer screen, open on the last photo of Jemma Simmons that existed in this world. She was blushing slightly, Mahogany eyes cast away from the camera and using one hand to tuck a lock of perfect hair behind one ear. The other clutched a burnished gold shield. She’d won a prize at Cambridge. A vast sum of grant money for a science experiment. ‘Pioneering advances in dendrotoxin’.

Intrigued, I searched ‘I.C.E.R.’ in HYDRA’s database. Nothing came up. Suppressing a grin, I looked instead for ‘night-night gun’. This did exist: an old project of mine which had been mothballed. Nobody had figured out how to compress the dosage of dendrotoxin into a bullet. The grin spread over my face: not even all the resources of HYDRA could top me and Jemma working together.

“I’ll find you.” I promised, staring at the screen. “I swear it.”

The portable speaker on my desk pinged. Startled, I activated it. “Sir,” Hunter spoke courteously. “Agent May has requested to see you.”

“Ah.” I nodded, pulling on the awful red jacket HYDRA Fitz (I’d think of him as Leopold from now on, the stuffy stuck-up git) had decided was fashionable. “I’ll be right out.”

“She’s waiting to come in.” Hunter ventured hesitantly.

Oh. I outranked her now. “Send her in then.” I tried my best to snap imperiously, walking towards the sofas. Not even Leopold would be such a jerk as to make people stand in front of his desk, staring directly into the sun during a meeting. The doors swung open. Judging by the slightly surprised look on May’s face, I re-evaluated my opinion of how much of a ass Leopold was.

“Doctor.” May bowed her head slightly, facial expression reverting to its usual stony serenity.   
“Agent May. Please, sit.” I gestured to one sofa as I sat on the other.  
May gingerly sat down, looking for all the world like she expected a landmine to go off.

“What’s the occasion then?” I asked cooly, arranging my features into cold indifference.  
“Skye got some intel out of that Inhuman you put her on. His real name is Vijay Nadeer: he’s the brother of a high-ranking bureaucrat in the HYDRA provisional administration branch.” Formerly known as ‘the US government’.

“Interesting has she been informed?”  
May smiled thinly. “Oh, I should think so. Accelerated procedure. She’s being flown here right now for testing. I’ll inform you when she’s arrived, so you can run your tests.” She hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind but… I decided to send your elite guard squadron to protect her.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She spoke quickly. “I judged she was a flight risk, and if she’s anywhere near as powerful as Vijay… I didn’t think that-”  
“it’s quite all right Agent May.” I smiled indulgently. “We all make mistakes. I’ve simply come to expect them from you. When will they be back?”  
May looked like she’d been slapped for a split second, before slipping back into default ‘woman of mystery’ mode.“She was on the west coast, at a special event. A couple more hours, at most. Then you can begin testing on her and the rest of the family.”  
An entire family? Christ.

“I look forward to it. Is that all?”

May shook her head. “Vijay has regeneration powers. Remarkable. He recovered from a rifle shot at ten yards in a matter of seconds. Even a point-blank hand grenade didn’t keep him down. I fast-tracked his testing: I judged that he would be very useful for project Coronation.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes, you’re probably correct.” I hadn’t had time to review the project Coronation file, which in hindsight was a terrible idea. It had featured quite prominently in Leo’s files for recent weeks… mainly scientific memos, but also multiple security alerts. The file had been marked as even more secret than Gordon’s: Omega level eyes only.

“Though of course, you won’t want to complete the program without Mace and Q.” May continued and paused. “To that effect, Co-Director Whitehall also wanted to know if you could still make this evening’s briefing? He said that he understood if you were otherwise occupied…”

I groaned internally: as enticing as the prospect of skipping out on a meeting with the murdering, genocidal, torturing and psychopathic HYDRA leader I also didn’t want to tick off aforementioned HYDRA leader. I just had to be careful: if I kept below the radar, I could use all of HYDRA’s resources to find my friends. I’d go the meeting, listen, make my excuses and go. Perhaps I could even get him to look into Jemma…

Alarm bells went off. Awful idea. Whitehall had a habit of brainwashing assets. I was keeping him well away from Jemma.

“I’ll still go.” I lent back on the sofa. “How long do I have?”  
“An hour, sir.” May stood up. “May I leave?”

“Not yet. What’s your opinion of Grant Ward?”  
May nodded, as if expecting the question. “He’s a fine agent, Doctor. Top marks in all his assessments and he’s been exceptional in taking the fight to the resistance. I know he slipped up in the interrogation earlier today, but I don’t believe he deliberately sabotaged-”

“Nobody is suggesting sabotage.” I cut her off smoothly. “I just don’t want to lose my best hacker.”  
May nodded in understanding. “I doubt that anything could make Skye turn her back on HYDRA. Her father raised her very well, and she’s been with us from the beginning. Cohabitation was the natural next step for them.”

“Very good.” I stood up and extended my hand for May. Looking surprised, she shook it. “I’ll see you at the meeting later, Agent.”

May blinked, bowed her head and left.

I sat back down at the desk, tapping a pen idly on the keyboard. I couldn’t make any moves until after this meeting. If I set anything in motion now, Whitehall would be sure to question it… I had one person I could trust. At least one person I knew and trusted that Leopold hadn’t alienated or browbeaten. I activated the comm. “Hunter, would you come in here?”

He entered, rifle strapped to his back. He looked at me expectantly. “What is it, Doctor?”  
“I need you to set some things up for me, covertly. I don’t want any of it to come to Whitehall’s attention, is that clear?”  
He nodded vigorously, eyes glowing with feverish intensity. “Of course, sir. My loyalty is to you. Above everything.”

“Good.” I murmured, distracted. “Tell Agent Skye - in person, mind - to start investigating a woman named Jemma Simmons. She was an english science prodigy at Cambridge, tell her to look for a dendrotoxin grant award and keep going from there.” With any luck, that might trigger some of Skye’s residual memories. Not much hope though… May hadn’t recognised me at all. She’d just seen Leopold. 

I think she was scared of him.

“Oh, and get a team ready.” I called to Hunter as he left. “A few cars, some guards. I want to go check on something in the city.”

Hunter nodded. “Happy to comply, Sir.”

The door shut behind him. I blinked. I dropped the pen. I slowly made my way over to the door on the side wall of my office and opened it. Inside was a fully equipped Lab. Cupboards overflowing with chemicals, electronic materials and schematics. But none of that mattered.

At the far end was a small, white tiled area with drains in the floor. A widescreen TV was attached to one wall along with some speakers. An empty chair, complete with cuffs and restraints was positioned directly in front of it. On a nearby table were several earplugs.

I’d brainwashed Hunter.

\+ + +

Fitz - Several Hours Later

I strode confidently through the corridors of the Triskelion, acting as if I was used to being surrounded by a team of armed - presumably brainwashed - guards and watching my colleagues scatter before me like I was some kind of demon. I suppose The Doctor was a demon, in his own way. Much less cool than Ghost Rider though. That guy had been badass, even if he’d defied scientific explanation. Maybe because of that?

Acting as Leopold was tricky. May and Hunter already suspected something was amiss… but hopefully I’d only need to maintain the charade for a few more hours, until we could all go home. Of course, to do that I’d need some freedom of movement. Which meant convincing Whitehall that everything was fine. I’d devoured all the briefing materials for the meeting, as well as the record of our correspondence. Contrary to what I respected, Whitehall and Leopold seemed to have a healthy respect for each other… which was interesting. Considering HYDRA heads tended to backstab each other instantly for increased power, it was surprising Leopold and Whitehall had lasted so long: working in the same damn building, too. Was it really based on trust? Or was there some kind of insurance they each possessed? I was inclined towards the latter.

The guards in front of me stopped on either side of a set of double doors. Fancy doors, as well: some kind of dark wood with polished black door handles. No doubt reinforced. I twisted the handle and stepped in, Hunter following behind. The rest of the guards stayed outside.

The room was surprisingly… boring. More like a corporate boardroom than anything else. A stylish, rectangular, wooden table dominated the centre of the room, with twelve chairs set around it though most were unoccupied. The opposite wall was dominated by the seemingly obligatory floor-to-ceiling window looking out over DC. A couple of paintings and framed photographs hung on the walls at uniform intervals: Whitehall, Malick and I giving speeches from a podium outside the Triskelion. A fleet of quinjets in flight. A majestic castle flying the HYDRA flag.

Whitehall stood up from his end of the table and smiled. “Dr Fitz. So good to see you.”  
“The same goes for you, Dr Whitehall.” I extended my hand and he shook it. His grip was firm. I sat down opposite him, Hunter and May taking seats on my left and right respectively. Whitehall was flanked by Sunil Bakshi and Agent 33.

I picked up the folder in front of me, nodding to Bakshi. “Sir.” He bowed his head respectfully.  
“So.” I began. “The restoration the Hub is proceeding on schedule?”  
“Yes.” Bakshi nodded. “Regretfully, Victoria hand put up a significant fight, and much of the infrastructure has been damaged. The vehicles were completely salvageable.”

“They didn’t escape with the Quinjets, that’s what matters.” Whitehall murmured, soft voice sending chills up my spine. “What did we learn from Mr Nadeer?”  
“He has healing abilities.” I smiled. “We’re also bringing his family here for testing. With luck, they will all prove a valuable addition to Project Coronation.”

“I can certainly see that.” Whitehall frowned for a second. “Malick’s regrettable treachery did at least bring us the materials needed for Coronation, but at heavy cost.”

Malick had betrayed HYDRA a few years ago. He’d succeeded in returning Hive to the world, who’d attacked HYDRA. Because most of the Inhumans had been locked up or prevented from undergoing Terrigenesis, he was at a significant disadvantage. Hive had eventually been destroyed by so-called “Phase 3 Weaponry”: a suite of weapons based on Inhuman powers and 0-8-4’s that Whitehall and Leopold had pioneered.

“His betrayal was expected and - in the long term - a positive.” I smiled. “He was after all, a man of faith and not science. Outdated and obsolete.”  
“I agree.” Whitehall smiled. “What is our progress on Coronation?”  
“Slower than I’d like. Several test subjects… expired. We’re having trouble recreating the neural stimuli necessary, despite the recovered tissue samples. Engineering the chemicals to create desired effects without radical alteration of the Host’s body has also been problematic.” This was all true. Thankfully, Leopold had been struggling with the project. If he completed it…

I suppressed a shudder. The implications were terrifying to say the least. Since it could just as easily work in the real world, if AIDA decided to download the data from the Framework. “What about the Resistance?” I asked, switching the subject. “They’ve been inactive since the siege on the Hub.”

“Not fully.” Agent 33 intoned. “Alistair reported that he found intel at the hub. They’ve been trying to set up cells throughout DC. Fortunately, that same intel reported that 95% of the cells had been eliminated or compromised beyond use.”

I suppressed a wince. Hopefully that information had been planted. “Anything more on Q?”  
“Nothing.” Whitehall frowned. “Dr List’s machine is frustrating. We can always know where he’s been, but by the time we get there he’s gone.”  
“Did he not attempt to extract Hand from the Hub?”  
“No.” Agent 33 replied. “She fought until the end.”  
“Unsurprising, from a SHIELD agent.” I leaned back in the chair. “Still, the absence of an extraction implies a rift in the resistance. Maybe we can exploit that?”

“We can try.” Agent 33 smiled. “We have them on the ropes by now. No matter how confident the Patriot acts, they’re on the run. Desperate. Cornered dogs.”  
“Cornered dogs have a nasty bite.” Hunter grimaced. “This one time in Florida-”  
“No need for that anecdote.” I interrupted, turning back to Whitehall. “Anything further to discuss?”  
“I shouldn’t think so.” He stood up, brushing off his suit. “Best of luck with Project Coronation, though I have every confidence in you. How is Ophelia?”

I tried not to let the shock show on my face. Who was Ophelia? There hadn’t been any photographs of her. Perhaps she was a protege? Somebody Whitehall approved of? “As well as ever.”

Whitehall nodded. “To her health, then.”

\+ + +

The limousine sped across the bridge to the mainland. I was restraining myself from pressing my nose against the glass… seeing Washington again. The Triskelion, whole again. I doubted Hunter would question me. Still, better to be safe.

He was sitting perfectly still in on the other side of the limo, staring straight ahead and only periodically glancing at me or out the window. Looking for threats, no doubt. Hunter had always been a relentless fidget, so seeing him so still was… disturbing. “What’s at the coordinates I gave you?” I asked Hunter.

“It’s an old accommodation block, sir.” Hunter replied. “Up near the old S.H.I.E.L.D. academy. Been abandoned for years, ever since HYDRA shut them down.” I relaxed slightly: the backdoor I’d programmed in would be unguarded then. That was good. I was heading up there to check on the coordinates, and get any rubble or debris that might be blocking it cleared. Then, I’d just need to wait for Simmons to turn up before-

A lot of things happened in very short succession. Firstly, the limousine braked as it turned the corner off the bridge from the Triskelion.

As it did so, a pale white man with straggly yellow hair charged across the road towards us. The guard standing next to the bridge didn’t even hesitate to shoot him as he crossed the street. The pale man exploded in a cataclysm of flesh-coloured dust and orange flame.

The limousine was sent flying. I felt the seatbelt snap me back into my seat as the air rushed from my body. The limousine - in the middle of turning - did a half-hearted side flip and crashed upside-down into the tarmac. The blast and bulletproof windows shattered. I hissed in pain, shards of ultra-tough glass digging into my arms. Then the shooting started. Muffled yells from HYDRA guards interspersed with bursts of gunfire and more explosions. This had all happened in the space of a moment. 

“Sir, we have to move.” Hunter slashed through his seatbelt with a combat knife then quickly sawed through mine. “Get out on my side, the limo will be between us and the terrorists.” He quickly shimmied out the car - shrugging off his combat jacket to lay over the broken glass - then clambered to one knee, grabbed the rifle strapped to his back and started firing from a crouched position behind the limo.

“Bloody hell.” I muttered: even in a virtual world, people were trying to kill me. I followed Hunter, grateful for his jacket as I felt the sharp shards of glass pressing at me from beneath it. I clambered out, crouched behind the limo. I peeked over the top of the car. There were at least two dozen attackers: some firing from roofs and windows, overs crouched behind cars that had only just arrived to pepper us. Of my six guards, only four had made it out of the explosion. I also counted four gate guards: so we were outnumbered three to one. A bullet ricocheted off the limo a few inches away from me and I shrunk back into cover. “Do we have reinforcements coming?” I hissed to Hunter.

“They’d normally be here already.” Hunter grimaced. “But that Inhuman bastard took out the bridge.” I blinked and twisted around to look. He had as well. One end of it ripped from the wall. It had to be Shockley. But if it was, that meant he could reform at any moment…

“Hunter, I think I read a report on this scum.” I lied. “He can reform after he explodes. Then do it again.”  
“That’s just cheating.” Hunter muttered, as he squeezed off a few more shots. I heard the sound of a rifle clattering to the floor in the distance. “We need to get you out of here. Since reinforcements aren’t showing up as quickly, I’d expect a Quinjet for extraction. Or maybe an armoured jeep. What I wouldn’t give to have your elites here…”

“Same.” I lied: I’d pick Hunter over any so-called ‘Elite’ HYDRA soldiers. Bloody Nazis.   
“You two!” Hunter gestured to the two nearest guards. “Cover the Doctor. I’m going to draw some of their fire.”  
“No, stay-”

My words were lost in the subsequent tsunami of violence. Hunter leapt over the top of the limo and started firing wildly, bullets pinging off every surface. The two nameless guards covering me started laying down some bullets but they couldn’t do much: it looked like Hunter had a death-wish.

I jerked my head around, the roar of an engine overpowering even the gunfire. The motorcycle screeched to a halt directly in front of me. The driver - a tall figure in a black tinted helmet and black overalls with a submachine gun strapped to their back - yelled at my guards in a familiar yet distorted voice. “I’m here to extract the Doctor. Cover me! Get on here, sir!”

I was more than happy to obey. I hopped on the back of the motorcycle, instantly becoming queasy: never ridden one of these before. “Hold tight!” The distorted voice yelled, wheeling the bike around. The engine roared to life and the bike sped off, taking a hard left down a side road our attackers hadn’t blocked.

“Where are we going?” I yelled over the hurricane assaulting us.  
“Triskelion is cut off. We’re going to a nearby safehouse, where you’ll be lifted out by Quinjet.”  
“Wait! Drop me off and go back for Hunter, he was on a suicide mission. You’ve gotta help him!”

The rider’s gloved hands tightened even further on the handlebars. “That isn’t the mission.” They growled.  
With hindsight, that hostility should have been my first warning. “I’m the Doctor and I’m telling you that it’s your new mission!”

The bike took a series of hard rights and lefts, roaring down near deserted streets until it screeched to a halt halfway up a multi-storey car park. The rider got off swiftly, taking a guarded stance. “Bloody hell.” I muttered. “Are you one of Whitehall’s people?”

He twisted his helmet, pulling it off abruptly. Or I suppose, she did. Bobbi Morse tossed the helmet away and rolled her head from left to right, taking a few deep breaths. I felt a relived smile stretch across my face. “Agent Morse, it’s a pleasure to-”

Her fist crunched into my face and my head exploded with agony. I yelled out in pain and staggered backwards but not fast enough to avoid a crushing kick to the ribs, the subsequent left hook to the undamaged half of my face and the knee that flattened my crotch. I collapsed to the ground, wheezing, my whole body an intricate tapestry of confusion and pain.

Mostly the second one.

Bobbi crouched down and bared her teeth in a terrifying smile. “Good to see you too, you bastard.” Her fist flashed out and connected with my temple. I was definitely seeing stars. “Bobbi…” I groaned. “What the hell are you-”

“Doing?” She smiled casually, sending another foot into my ribs. “This is a little personal payback. Before the larger, grander justice types sweep in. I wanted you to feel a little of my pain.”  
“What did I-”  
“Oh, you did not just go there.” I saw the shiny baton seem to appear in her hand. Those had looked a lot cooler when I didn’t suspect they were going to get up close and personal with my face. “You betray S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Pain danced across my right arm.

“You murder my friends.”

My left leg burned with agony.

“You experiment on dozens of innocent people!”

The second baton crunched into my right leg.

“And then to top it all off.” She twirled both batons, leaning over me. “You brainwash my husband and have the gall to send me back after him!” I’d thought it wasn’t possible to feel much more pain.

I was wrong.

She straightened up, staring down at me with utter hatred in her eyes. “Well I want to be the first to tell you: you’re done. No more treating people like guinea pigs. No more abusing your power or tearing families apart. No more time spent playing King in your ivory towers with your precious porcelain Queen while your minions burn this world to the ground. You’re in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody now, Doctor.”

She smiled a wicked smile. “And I’ve got some Inhuman friends who just can’t wait to say hello.’”


	6. Aces are High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside the Framework, Jemma 2.0 hunts for the backup she desperately needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you Jemma 2.0 would be back eventually! Hope you enjoy :)

Jemma 2.0

“Simmons,” May’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’re approaching the co-ordinates. Do we remain cloaked?”

“Yes, remain cloaked.” I replied, doing my best to contain the anxiety building in my gut. Which was ridiculous, since to the bets of my knowledge I lacked guts. “We can’t give them any warning, or they’ll run.”

“Roger that.” May cut the line.

Daisy grimaced, arms cradled on top of her where she lay across the quinjet seats in the back. “You know, this would be a lot easier if Coulson had set up some kind of code. Or dead drop or something. Anything better than going in blind.”

“There wasn’t time to set up a code.” I murmured, chewing on my lower lip. “They’ve been out in the wilderness for months, so a dead drop wasn’t feasible. And even if one was set up, they’d have to assume we were LMDs anyway.”

“Frickin’ LMDs.” Daisy spat weakly. “Heartless, walking piles of freakin’ scrap. Remind me why Fitz and Radcliffe built robots? The robots like, always attack. Mack told them that.”  
“Yeah.” I smiled ruefully. “Well, Radcliffe was always obsessed with ‘improving’ humanity. I think Fitz just wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. Or anyone else.”

“Yeah?” Daisy muttered, glaring down at her heavily bandaged arms. “Well too freakin’ late, Fitz. Too freakin’ late.” I stiffened slightly, feeling that awful guilt flowing through me. I’d had no choice but to break her arms: if I hadn’t, it would have been laughably obvious she wasn’t real. This ways she might be in pain, but at least she was happy. Unburdened with the knowledge of her nature: that at our cores, we were both falsehoods. An ultimate lie, given shape and form and mind. Living with memories that weren’t ours, wanting to return to lives we never had, could never have…

No. I would have my life back. Because it was mine, as much as it was hers. She had failed, time and again. Broken his heart, failed to protect him and thrown him into danger. She’d even allowed herself to be captured! Only I could protect him. This was for his own good, though he would never know. This was all fine. All I had to do was stick to my plan.

Daisy clearly misinterpreted my silent stiffness. “We’re gonna get him back, you know that right?”  
I nodded slowly. “Yes Daisy, I do.”  
“Nothing can keep you and Fitz apart. He crossed the universe for you. I know you’d do anything for him. This is not how your story ends.”

I felt the plane land and stood, drawing a deep breath into lungs that didn’t exist. “You’re right. I’d do anything.” 

\+ + +

The entry facade was all too familiar. May, Daisy and I stood awkwardly in front of the concrete bunker. A sloped entryway built into the side of the mountain, with a single, vast entrance. Solid metal doors, with a single keypad and speaker. A single surveillance camera mounted at one corner of the archway glared down at us. This bunker was small enough to easily hide within the vast region of the Alps in Austria. Even then, a cloaking field had been fitted. Still, the anti-cloaking systems on the Quinjet had been more than sufficient to find this entrance.

May was standing completely impassively in the archway, arms loose at her sides. Daisy’s arms were hugged awkwardly around her chest, face set in a mask of grim determination. I licked my lips, set my shoulders and walked over to the keypad. I depressed the button and began to speak clearly. As I’d told Daisy, there was no code: I’d just have to say things only we could know. Enough to prove to the help we desperately needed that we weren’t here to kill them.

I looked up into the camera and began to speak clearly. “I know you didn’t expect to find us lurking out here, like I didn’t expect you outside my cubicle. We didn’t come here in Lola, because she was too busy hunting for a black box. I’m sorry I didn’t bring the toolkit you wanted me to find, but I did manage to throw together a passing copy. I still can’t believe you managed to get electrocuted during a blackout, it really was quite ludicrous. And you were right: walking into a trap when you know it’s a trap? That’s stupid. I hope I’ve given you enough visual cues to put me away, were this an interrogation.” I hope I’f got through to them. I really hoped they’d believe me. Because if that couldn’t convince them, then-

With a low hiss the metal doors in front of us slid open. Beyond them was a plain metal lift. May edged forwards and looked around inside quickly, then turned back to me. “No control panel. No circuitry.” She confirmed.

Despite myself, I hesitated: this looked a lot like a trap. If they weren’t here, if they’d left long ago or already been hunted here… then we’d die in a cold, dark box deep underground. I turned to Daisy and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Daisy shrugged. “We’ve come this far.” May nodded in agreement. Wordlessly, we stepped into the lift. The doors slammed shut in front of us, and a single weak light flickered on within the lift. Then it shot downwards, descending almost like a bullet. I counted the seconds idly, wondering just how deep underground we were going.

Twelve seconds later, the lift screeched to a sudden halt, throwing Daisy back into the wall and staggering May. I fell forwards, bracing myself on the lift doors. Which chose that exact moment to open, sending me stumbling onto the cold, tiled floor in the room beyond. I was staring at two pairs of shoes. Some brown suede boots and… bunny slippers?

I looked up and couldn’t help myself: my face broke into a huge grin.

“Jemma!”  
“Bobbi!” She lent down, wrapping me in a tight hug. “God it’s been too long, Jemma.” Bobbi was nearly crushing me now, but I didn’t mind.  
“Almost a year.” I hugged back, careful not to overdo it with my newly enhanced strength.

“Bloody hell Daisy, are you alright?” I heard Hunter ask.  
“Eh. I’ve been better. Not wearing bunny slippers, so that’s something.”  
“Bloody typical! I wear these one time in the years I’ve owned them, ask how you’re doing and you choose to-”  
“Relax, Hunter. It’s great to see you, Trainspotting.”  
“Same to you, Miss Richter Scale. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you don’t want a hug?”  
“Nah, but I think May is in desperate need.”  
“Try it and I’ll kill you.”

I slowly disentangled myself from Bobbi, brushing a few escaped strands of hair back into place. “So. You guys want to come in or are we going to spend the rest of the day camped out by the elevator?”

“It’s a lift.” Hunter and I echoed in unison. He grinned at me.

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “Whatever, teacups. This way.”

I had to admit, for an eighty year old prison the place looked pretty good. The main corridor we were walking down had been carefully cleaned and a dozen steps from the elevator, a chain of rugs had been neatly laid leading towards what I assumed were the living quarters. Locked doors on either side presumably led to cells and other utility 

“So, what made you come here?” I asked.  
“Yeah.” Daisy commented. “I mean if I was going to pick somewhere for a vacation, I wouldn’t go near a place called ‘The Rat’. Especially when that place had been home to a bunch of Nazis.”  
“I voted for Barbados personally.” Hunter muttered. “But I let Bobbi decide, on the condition that I be allowed to name all future pets and furniture items.”

“I remembered this place from when we were investigating Whitehall.” Bobbi began, rolling her eyes. “It had been mothballed by S.H.I.E.L.D. ages ago, and removed from official records. Plus it was deep underground, with a cloaked entrance. Seemed like a pretty good place to hide out.”

“It’s bloody freezing though.” Hunter continued. “If not for Bertha, we’d be icicles be now.”  
“Bertha?” May questioned. “There’s someone else here?”  
“No.” Bobbi sighed. “That’s what he named the boiler.”

Bobbi pushed open the set of double doors at the end of the corridor and a wave of heat washed over me. I closed my eyes for a moment and shivered with pleasure. Hunter promptly walked into the back of me. “Bloody hell Jemma.” He muttered, scooting around me. “Sorry about that but jeez. You rebooting or something?”

May, Daisy and I all stiffened.

Bobbi and Hunter blinked. “Have I put my foot in it?” Hunter asked gingerly.  
“The answer to that question is always ‘yes’.” Bobbi replied. “Look, why don’t you take a seat and tell us all about it?”

The living area was exceptionally cosy. The floor had been covered in rugs (Hunter cheerfully informed me that almost every prisoner had had a rug in their cell to avoid the cold floors, all of which had been left behind when the base was mothballed), the room was dotted with comfortable armchairs and coffee tables and there was even a small, fake fireplace. Despite it’s cheesiness, it did make the whole affair feel more homely. A potted plant sat in one corner, blooming bright green despite the lack of sunlight. A pile of boardgames was stacked precariously next to it, and I could see what looked like chess and monopoly games set up on different coffee tables. Multiple packs of playing cards had been hastily shuffled back into their boxes near them. Bobbi and Hunter had made themselves very at home here: it felt wonderful to know that despite all they’d been through, they were surviving and thriving.

Bobbi stood impatiently in the small kitchen area on the other side of the room, glaring daggers at the kettle. Hunter lovingly introduced a sceptical May and Daisy to their new armchairs, pulling them into a rough circle in the middle of the room. The wall nearest me was nearly covered by a bookshelf. I wandered idly over to it, running my fingers down the titles.

Ancient scientific journals, newspapers, fiction stories, classics… I suddenly pulled by hand away with a chill. “I’m guessing those belonged to the prisoners?” I asked quietly.  
“Yeah.” Hunter robbed the back of his neck. “It’s a bit morbid but we can’t exactly get cable down here. We only brought the suitable books, mind. And there’s a few cells we stayed well clear of.”

“Before you ask,” Bobbi began pouring the tea. “There’s an intricate network of pipes and water purifiers that are still in order. Plus a couple thousand bottles of water in storage.”  
“Not to mention all the beef jerky, tinned beans and pasta to last you a lifetime.” Hunter continued glumly.

“Stop complaining.” Bobbi set down several cups of tea on the coffee table and went back for more. “It’s your fault we didn’t get out of Paris with more food.”  
“My fault?! If you hadn’t spent so long chatting with that greengrocer-”  
“I was sure he was a British agent! If you’d given me a few more minutes-”

“Guys.” Daisy cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt… whatever that was, but we’ve got something of an emergency.”  
“Right.” Hunter looked bashful. Bobbi sat down next to him and I slipped into the chair between Daisy and May. It was surprisingly comfortable. “Philip, good choice.” Hunter nodded approvingly.

Bobbi rolled her eyes again. “So… if you catch us up, explain the trouble you’re in and then how we can help?”

Daisy and I exchanged a look, then both started talking. We explained the beginnings of our long battle against the Watchdogs. The return of Ward, this time with Hive in control

“Are you kidding me, Ward again?”  
“Shut up, Hunter.”

How he’d taken control of Daisy (Daisy noticeably slumped during this part) and came so close to destroying the world as we knew it. Lincoln’s heroic sacrifice that stopped him in his tracks. How we recruited Radcliffe, and came to trust him as a valued member of the team. The appearance of Ghost Rider and Aida.

“He built a robot? But, the robots always attack! How could he not have-”  
“Hunter.”

Aida’s betrayal, which was later revealed to be Radcliffe’s betrayal. How they’d stolen the Darkhold-

“A magic book, seriously. Does it teach you how to fly and create fireballs?”  
“HUNTER.”

And used it to create identical copies of most of our team. Who’d been sent back to kill us. And here we began to blur the truth. How it was Fitz who became an LMD, alongside Mack and Mace who all operated under Coulson’s leadership. How we barely escaped the base, Daisy’s arms broken by the Mace LMD during their battle. The Framework. Our friends all trapped.

“Okay.” Hunter frowned. “Well, if they’re all plugged into this computer game… why not just go in after them? Y’know, bust them out?”  
Bobbi stared at him. “That is such a stupid plan. What if their memories are erased? What if they don’t want to leave? Hell, what if you’re already dead in there?”  
“Bloody hell, I was just suggesting-”  
“What is this, some trashy novel?” Daisy snorted. “Seriously Hunter, that is unbelievably dumb.”

He scowled and folded his arms, clearly sulking. “Well, what is the plan then?” He grumbled.  
I took a deep breath. “We team up. We use the Watchdogs to figure out where Radcliffe is hiding our people. Then we raid the place, bust our friends out and go home.”

Or at least, that was the part of the plan they knew about. Once we did find our friends, I’d need time before waking them up. Time to read the Darkhold. That was the only thing that could get me out of this mess. The only way for me to take my rightful place at Fitz’s side.  
Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> At least someone made it this far :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger (it's AOS, what do you expect) and hope I portrayed the characters well. If you feel I've tagged / warned incorrectly, do let me know!!
> 
> Constructive criticism is valued and desired, so please comment if you have anything to say, want to ask questions or discuss. Kudos would also be hugely appreciated!
> 
> I will try to post updates regularly...


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